Breaking Point
by jo taylor
Summary: When Charlie can't cope anymore, who can he turn to? Set right before Hit Me Baby. My first attempt at a Life ff, please let me know what you think.


Breaking Point

You think Charlie Crews has it all under control? Zen loving, unflappable, dependable Charlie. Well he's only human, and sometimes, no matter how hard he tries, Zen just doesn't work.

Author's note: I see this as being set right before 'Hit Me Baby' when Reese is worried about leaving Charlie

The insistent ringing of the phone dragged Dani from sleep. Slowly she cranked open one eye and glanced at the clock. 5.23. She groaned, swore and began to turn over. Then it hit her; it was 5.23 in the morning, no one rang at that time unless – who had died! She sat up quickly and grabbed the receiver.

"Yes, who is it?"

"Detective Reese?" the voice was hesitant, deep with a slight lisp.

She recognised the voice right away. "Ted? What… oh shit, what's he done now?" She sank back against the pillows and waited yawning widely. Maybe he'd got himself arrested. Wouldn't surprise her the way he drove that fancy car of his. Or maybe one of his string of women had cried foul … no, not likely, he would be too generous for that. Maybe he'd run amok in the local Publix frozen food section, removing all frozen fruits and declaring them unholy.

"Charlie's missing. I didn't know who else to call."

Dani groaned. She really didn't have the energy right now to blast Ted as he deserved, but she'd give it a shot.

"You wake me at this ungodly hour to tell me he didn't come home last night?" she began, her voice harsh this early in the morning.

Ted's anxious voice talked over her. "He came home, but he's not here now. The car, it's in the drive, the front door's wide open – I woke early, saw the lights on and came over. Sometimes, well sometimes he doesn't sleep well. Anyway, I came over and … no Charlie. Something's wrong, something's very wrong."

Dani contemplated Ted's words for a moment. "I'm coming over," she barked. "Don't touch anything."

As she scrambled to get dressed Dani reviewed everything she knew about her partner. The man had enemies; that's for sure. But he might just have easily gone off with one of his harem or one of those obnoxious badge bunnies. If that were what he'd done she'd put a bullet through him for making her anxious. She stopped for a moment, hair - brush suspended over her head. She was worried, why? Because she was talking Charlie Crews, she admitted, and he wouldn't just take off. At least, he might, but he'd probably leave some damn cryptic note.

As she drove through the early morning traffic Dani thought back over the last few days. Crews had been quiet, well quiet for him. That was never a good sign, and yet she'd ignored it, the same way she'd trained herself to ignore the Zen tape he kept sneaking into her car. After one particularly childish drive with the pair of them turning it on and off, she'd finally given up and tuned out.

Yesterday they'd miraculously finished on time. Tidwell had let them go after he'd checked the paperwork. There was still a mountain of loose ends to deal with, but nothing could be done until the next day. Kevin had given her a pointed look, which she had ignored, and said he'd see them later.

She'd walked down to the car park with Crews, head filled with plans for a night alone. A luxury she'd not allowed herself in a while. She thought she could hack it now. If she got lonesome she could go to Tidwell's place and lose herself in sex. And then Crews' voice had intruded on her thoughts.

"You ever think about dying, Reese?" His voice had been singularly lacking in his usual insouciance. "Ever wonder how, when?"

She'd shot a glare his way. "No. No I don't think about dying. I'm not interested in the how or the why. It's inevitable, so does it really matter?"

"They say your life passes before your eyes, did you know that? It doesn't by the way. Just in case you were wondering. I've died twice now, not a blip. I wonder what that says about me?"

Dani stopped and grabbed his arm. "What the hell are you talking about? Died twice?"

He was perfectly calm as he let his eyes lock with hers. Face inscrutable, eyes clear. And yet there was a tension in him that she could almost feel. This was a Crews she'd not encountered before and she wasn't sure she liked it.

"I flat lined in the ambulance that day I got shot, you knew that right?"

Dani hadn't known. Tidwell had kept that bit of knowledge from her and for that he'd pay big time. She shook her head.

"Ah, well… not that it matters I suppose seeing as I'm here in the now, with you."

"Crews," Dani growled.

"The first time was in Pelican Bay." His eyes lifted from hers for a moment and she saw the slight tightening around his mouth, the only indication that the subject in any way affected him.

"Six months in, I'd been in and out of the infirmary almost on a weekly basis. This time they decided I'd not be coming out. Someone got a knife smuggled in somehow. They caught me in the yard when the guards were distracted."

"Christ," she muttered. "Is that when the put you in solitary? To get you away from that."

"Oh, no," he replied. His mouth suddenly quirked up and he let loose a grin. "Want to see the scar, Reese? It's…" But he was talking to fresh air. Dani had turned and walked away from him the moment she'd seen the grin. Bastard had been playing with her.

Now, with the sun on the rise, Dani went over that conversation again. Had he been serious, about dying? Had he been expecting trouble, something he'd not shared, something to do with the shooting? Her foot pressed a little harder on the accelerator.

*

He'd got home early, showered, changed and had stood in the hallway not knowing what to do. Restless, unable to concentrate he needed a distraction. Grabbing his car keys he'd headed back out, sliding behind the wheel with nowhere in mind. He enjoyed the freedom of driving, the autonomy. Being able to aim for the horizon with no barriers in his way.

For days now he'd not really eaten well, even his beloved fruit had tasted ashen in his mouth. As for sleep, he couldn't face closing his eyes. Her face would appear, eyes accusing. The frail, tiny hands held out in supplication. He swore, turned the volume up on the Zen tape, and tried to drown out the images that battered at him.

A week ago they'd been called to the most horrifying situation he'd ever been in. An anonymous tip off had led them to believe that a missing four year old was being held hostage in the basement of a derelict building, the kidnapper probably armed and dangerous. He and Dani had been the first to arrive, and it had taken all his self-control not to burst right in there. But they had waited for back up, like good cops… and the little girl had died. Died, while they sat outside in their car waiting. She'd still been warm when they finally entered the building. Squeezed into a cage you wouldn't put a dog in, her hands limp around the bars, her eyes half open. Grey eyes. Tiny hands. Bars. God, why couldn't he stop thinking about it?

Charlie was half way to the next county before he finally let his foot ease off the gas.

Lack of food and sleep had left him feeling euphoric, but not in a good way. His head felt stuffed with cotton wool, his control bordering on implosion. He'd taught himself to compartmentalise, to put his negative thoughts into a box, and close the lid. Now those boxes were starting to bulge. Too much stored, too much negative thought.

"I need to see a shrink," he declared to the empty night. Ted was always telling him he should talk to someone, anyone. But he wouldn't, couldn't open up to some stranger. They'd never understand. _Reese would_, his traitorous brain hinted.

He'd turned the car around then and driven home. There was no point in running; the damn memories were with him wherever he went. They, like he, were always in the now.

He pulled up quietly to the house, not wanting to disturb Ted. A glance at the dashboard showed it to be nearly four am. He entered the house, leaving the front door open behind him. Turning on lights as he went, he made his way through the ground floor. Everywhere he went the walls seemed to move in on him. The place was huge, empty of the usual clutter most homes acquire and yet it still felt oppressive. He made his way out to the pool and into the night. In the distance he could see odd lights on the far side of the canyon. He wasn't the only person up. A howl off to the left told him that the coyotes were also awake. Ted would worry, he thought briefly.

*

Reese's car slid in beside Crews' on the front drive. She got out slowly, eyes searching for any signs of a struggle. She noted the slightly ajar driver's door and pulled it fully open with care not to leave any prints. Ducking her head, she leaned in, catching the slight trace of Crew's expensive cologne lingering in the air. Keys still sat in the ignition, a habit he'd confessed to a while back. That was through his 'I'm not attached to my car' phase as she'd called it. He'd pulled up beside her one morning, got out of his car and slammed the door, not locking it. Dani had got out of her hard earned vehicle and strode over to him.

"You gonna lock that, Crews?" she'd tackled him.

"It's just a car, Reese," he'd responded. "And it's safe enough here," he'd waved a casual hand around the police parking lot.

Temper rising at his casual attitude, she'd dragged open his door, taken out the keys and slammed the door shut again, locking it with the remote. His eyes had sparkled with mischief at her anger. For some reason it never reached him like it should.

"You want the car, Reese, you only have to ask. Keep it. You are owned by your possessions. The car means nothing."

A sound suspiciously like a growl came from the back of her throat. Grabbing his hand she'd forced the keys into his palm. "Lock your damn car, Crews. I don't want to be left with the paperwork when some perp decides to take it for a ride." And she'd turned from him, heading with swift strides to the exit.

She left his keys where they were, just in case something had happened in the car, though she could see no signs of a struggle.

The front door to his house stood wide open, Ted was waiting just outside, his eyes anxious.

"You found it like this?" she queried as she headed toward him.

"I didn't touch anything, as you asked. Charlie doesn't lock the front door, any door, but he wouldn't leave it like this."

As Dani stepped over the threshold images crowded her mind. Blood pooling on the floor, paramedics working frantically to stem the bleeding. Paraphernalia strewn all around him. Her hands soaked in blood. So much blood. Crews' lean body under her hands, his eyes unfocussed. They hadn't let her go with him to the hospital; Tidwell had made her wait for him and the crime scene techs to arrive. She'd nearly gone out of her mind with worry, not that she'd let it show.

Someone had shot her partner, with her standing just a few feet away. Someone was going to pay.

Now nothing marred the pristine floor. Around her early morning daylight flooded the large hall cancelling out the artificial lighting that was still pushing out across the expanse.

Still no signs of a struggle; and Dani couldn't believe that, given the smallest opportunity, Crews wouldn't go down fighting. He'd survived twelve years in prison where he was a constant target, he knew how to take care of himself and she'd seen that implacable will kick in on more than one occasion. She started her search upstairs, checking every room for any hint of what might have happened. Mostly they stood empty save for his bedroom. Dominated by a large bed and little else the room still spoke of Charlie Crews. Strewn across his bed were the clothes he'd been wearing the day before; Light blue shirt, dark blue suit and tie. Boxers, socks and shoes left on the floor. Somehow Dani hadn't thought Crews was untidy, so this meant something, but what?

She stared at the discarding clothing for a few moments more, tempted to explore further, though it seemed unlikely that anything had happened here. Running lightly downstairs she turned her attention to the ground floor. Once again there was a dearth of furniture. The barest minimum for personal comfort. Everywhere she went doors stood open, lights blazed. Finally she found her way out to the pool and the view across the wilderness below. Ted joined her, coming to stand at her shoulder.

"Charlie would stand here for hours when we first moved in. Something about seeing the mountains and waters as mountains and waters. Didn't understand what the heck he meant. No mountains and no water out there, just a few scrubby trees, a lot of dust and _coyotes_."

"It's Zen," she replied quietly. Then strode toward the edge. She really hoped she was wrong but a sudden flash of memory had seared her brain. The desolated look on his face when they found little Melissa Cooke in that cage; the anger in every line of his body when they found the kidnapper already dead of an overdose in the upstairs bedroom. They hadn't found a gun.

Dani understood 'the straw that broke the camel's back', she truly did. Christ almighty, what the hell had he done.

*

Charlie watched the sun come up with strange detachment. In prison, the sun meant another day he needed to get through, another round of insults and possibly injury to endure. Finding the books on Zen in the prison library had saved him from going mad, mostly. He wasn't sure his mind was that healthy, not yet. Not until he could put things back in the box. He'd come to accept death on the job, either a victim or an officer, it happened and he could lock them away. Little Melissa had broken some barrier inside. They shouldn't even have been there, except that the child's mother had been killed during the kidnap, which gave them jurisdiction, as it was possible that the child too was dead. A straight kidnapping would have been the Feds job not Robbery Homicide.

He and Reese had headed to the basement, letting the backup scour the upper floors. She'd showed up as a pale streak in the murky overheated darkness, his torch reflected off her once yellow dress and blonde hair. He had known, even before he reached her, that they were too late. Not a sign of movement, not a hint of breath. He'd pushed his hand through the bars to reach her delicate throat. No pulse and yet her skin still felt warm under his fingers. He'd charged away then with his weapon drawn, Reese on his heels. There had been a shout from above, the perp had been found.

Daylight had shown them the body, needle still in his arm, vomit down his chest. Charlie had wanted to pump the contents of his gun into the man. Baulked of an outlet for his rage, he'd run back out of the building before he did something reckless.

He should never have let Reese hold him back when they'd arrived. He broke the rules all the time; she would have backed him up. Maybe that was unfair, but right now Charlie couldn't think past the images in his head.

There had been a new call an hour after they had returned to the station, and he'd welcomed the distraction.

He'd let Reese deal with the paperwork on Melissa; he couldn't even make himself read the autopsy report.

As the sun rose higher, he could feel it begin to burn. He should move, go back up the canyon and start his day. He stayed, staring out at the emptiness before him, waiting for some sign that there was a reason to go back to work, go back to seeing things he'd much rather not, go back to… Reese.

*

"Ted, do you know where Crews keeps his service weapon?"

"Oh my God, you don't think? Jesus. Yes, yes I do. Beside cabinet, left side."

Dani ran quickly back into the house, taking the stairs two at a time and bursting back into Crews' room. Dragging open every drawer, she let out a sigh of relief when she saw the holster and gun tucked away. But what about his knife? Grabbing his jacket she turned out the pockets, then the trousers, finding only a lone kumquat. Surely he wouldn't? Her foot kicked out at the Versace boxers, sending them into the air. And there, where they had lain, was the knife she'd taken from him so long ago. A long sigh left her lips, her shoulders relaxing a little. Outside the sun was getting higher, stronger. Not good for someone of his complexion. If he were lucky he'd get away with just sunburn. She dropped the fruit into her pocket and headed back downstairs.

When she reached the poolside again, Ted was pacing back and forth along the edge of the path.

"Did you find it?" his voice anxious.

She nodded tightly, and then joined him looking for evidence that Crews might have taken off into the canyon. Near the eastern end, the incline seemed a little shallower, more negotiable. There was evidence of recent traffic in the broken brush. She should call for back up; get a search team out to help her. Shading her eyes, she gazed into the scrubby landscape. She felt certain Crews was out there somewhere, and whether he liked it or not, he needed her help.

Without a second look she scooted over the edge and followed what seemed to be his trail into the canyon's depths, calling back to Ted to stay where he was.

*

She spotted him ten minutes later. He'd moved a fair way into the canyon, and was sitting, propped against a large uncomfortable looking boulder. Wrists balanced on bent knees, head tipped back, his face to the sun.

He must have heard her descent, she'd not tried to hide her approach, and anyway she'd sworn plenty of times as brush and stones made her passage treacherous. But as she came to sit on the boulder he leaned against, he made no sign that he knew she was there. Not a good start.

He was dressed in black; black denims, black shirt, black trainers. Looked more like a damned Ninja than a detective – the look suited him.

"Crews?" she asked softly. "What are you doing?"

For moment she thought he wouldn't answer as time stretched away. "Crews?"

His voice came as a soft sigh. "I need to be one again, Reese. I need to see a forest and recognise the leaf; I need to see the mountains and the waters, I need clarity."

Well that she sort of understood. His world wasn't in synch any more, she took to the bottle or something equally destructive, Crews came and looked at scenery. Much better idea, though she didn't know how to help. She had to stop this wallowing.

"I had a boyfriend once who thought he was really deep, you know? And he'd hate it when I didn't want to talk about something that upset me. Used to quote Neietzche to me, like I'd understand that at nineteen. I understand it now. The one I remember most? 'If you gaze for long into the abyss, the abyss also gazes back at you'. Time to walk away from the abyss, Crews."

He ignored her, his eyes closing again as though to shut her out.

"Crews, what can I do?"

"Nothing, you've done enough."

She heard the accusation in his voice. What on earth had she done that had precipitated this?

"I don't know…"

He interrupted her. "Melissa shouldn't have died. We…I should have got to her in time. Twenty minutes we waited, Reese. We…I could have saved her."

Ah crap. She'd known he was upset. No one liked it when a kid died, but Crews had been really furious, and then the walls had gone up. He blamed himself, or her, either one was wrong.

"She was already gone before we got there. The coroner's report said she'd been dead at least an hour. There was nothing we could do, nothing Crews."

He shook his head, eyes still closed. "She was warm when I touched her. Could have saved her."

"No you couldn't!" Reese's voice had gone up a notch or two. "I'm not lying to you. You never read the report, I know, but I would not make this up. For God's sake, Crews, you can check for yourself."

He stayed quiet.

Her hand slapped down on his shoulder. "Charlie Crews, when have I ever lied to you?"

Slowly his eyes opened and he stared out over the scrubby trees and rocks. "Everyone lies."

"You've seen the worst of me, Charlie, why would I start lying now?"

She'd called him Charlie! Damn, she hoped he didn't pick up on it. She could only hope.

They sat in silence; in her head Dani could hear the minutes ticking off. Should she speak? She thought not. Crews' gaze seemed remote as though he was not even aware of her, but she could almost hear the wheels turning in his brain.

The quiet seemed to go on forever, and then with a soft sigh he slid down and rested his head on her leg. For a moment panic struck, her hand hovered mid air. And then it came to rest, as though ordained, on his hair. Gloriously coloured, soft to touch, her fingers moving almost of their own accord to smooth through the short cut.

*

Had she ever lied to him? Perhaps. Had she ever hidden things from him, probably. Would she lie about something she knew was this important to him? No, no she wouldn't. Not something he could check so easily, not something that was seriously screwing with his head.

Their dealings with one another had been strangely symbiotic. His calm breaking her storm, her leaps of intuition so attuned to his. They couldn't have saved Melissa. She'd said it was so, he should trust her, he did trust her.

And she had called him Charlie.

The sun was getting stronger now and he could feel the prickle of burning skin. Behind him, the boulder's jagged edges were digging into his back; he'd be lucky if he wasn't at least bruised. When he'd sat down in the early morning light, he'd been feeling little of anything, now sensations were filtering back, uncomfortable both physically and mentally. But he didn't want to move just yet.

Dani was his partner, deserving of respect - his respect. She'd come to find him, alone, not thinking about what she might find. Trust. He needed to trust.

With a sigh, he let his head fall against her denim clad thigh. Just a few minutes more, then he'd get up and get on with his life. And then her fingers were in his hair with soothing strokes that brought him a sense of calm he'd been missing these last few days. Such a simple act, but from Reese it was a leap of intimacy he had never expected.

Her hand stopped. "Crew's, you're turning pink. Time to go."

He raised his head from her thigh and looked back at her.

"Do you think I'll have a great tan?"

"No," she replied. "You're gonna peel and itch for days."

Fishing in her pocket she held out her hand to him.

"Kumquat?"

She liked him, she really did.

The end


End file.
